youki hirakawa

Close your Eyes

The fluttering candles lights a photo on a table. An old portraits of young, beautiful woman. I don't know who is she, but she is staring me, staring at my studio, staring at the world. She never closes her eyes; she never even blinks. She would probably be about 130 years old, if she still alive. I imagine her life, her love, her family and what she saw. I put my hands gently on her face, close her eyes and let her sleep. It is already time to sleep. And I imagine again where she sleeps now.